


Sliding doors

by ColorfulStabwound



Series: Drarry Dump [21]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarry, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-24
Updated: 2012-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-13 22:47:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2168046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorfulStabwound/pseuds/ColorfulStabwound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tiny series of ‘what ifs’ and a glimpse of destiny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sliding doors

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the movie of the same title. If you haven't seen it, you should. :)

_  
“You’ve got to catch that train. Draco, you’ve **got**  to catch that train.”_

It is the one thing that my sub conscious is always telling me, without a doubt.  Which is sort of ironic if you think about it; I’m a wizard, I haven’t boarded a train since I was in school, but there it is.  This morning I’m sitting in the library pondering the significance of catching trains and being late and I can’t help but wonder what would have happened if I would have  _actually_ missed that train.  You know, I was so close to not even boarding that train, I had had mother nearly convinced to let me attend Durmstrang. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had known all along, she was always intuitive like that..

“Scorpius Hyperion, you put that elf down, this  **instant**!”

It was a phrase I heard at least once a day, ringing through the manor, riding the near shriek of an exasperated nanny.  I couldn’t help but smirk every single time, head shaking in fond amusement.  The boy was a Malfoy, honestly, what did she expect?  Scorpius was now eleven and soon, he would leave to embark on his own journey to school, much like I had when I was his age.  He would attend Hogwarts like I myself had and undoubtedly be the next Slytherin in a long line of Malfoys before him.  His mother was already fussing, muttering about ‘where the time goes’ and ‘what will she do without him?’ I suppose it is a mother’s way, to be concerned about her son growing up. I am proud of my son and I know he will not make the mistakes that I did along the winding road of my life. 

“Scorpius, we’re going to be late, we must go.”

I was standing in the entry hall, silver gaze peering up the vacant staircase, waiting for the boy to appear.  I had always had a ‘thing’ about being punctual, and I wouldn’t have anyone mucking up my schedule, next Malfoy heir, or not.   A hand slipped into mine and I stilled slightly, the warmth calming me just enough.  She gave it a light squeeze and I turned to smile at her, thankful for her presence.  She would take all of the emotional anxiety of our son leaving for school and I would be spared, which I personally considered a silent blessing, of sorts.  A moment later Scorpius came bounding down the stairs and I couldn’t stop the faint smile from crossing my features, I think I am happy..

~

“You truly enjoy trying to kill me, don’t you?”

I fixed him with a glare that hinted at amusement, lips twitching with a smirk that I would  **not**  allow to peek through.  I was far too complacent, I don’t know what he’s done to me but I scarcely resemble the Malfoy that I should be.  We take our coffee at all hours, we eat croissants in bed and there is never a dull moment.  He’s like a child that never ages, constantly dreaming up new and completely insane things for us to do.  I think he’s making up for the shit childhood he had, and I think that I indulge him because I’d like to make up for mine too. 

_“We’re going to be late Draco, come on!”_

His voice carries down the hall and filters into the expansive closet I am currently standing in, a satisfied smirk pressing against my mouth.    Sometimes I enjoy making him wait, especially when we are headed on one of his ‘outings.’  The way his bottom lip juts out when he is pouting is worth it, every time.

“Almost done now..”

I reply, sliding open a drawer containing rows and rows of cufflinks, taking my time choosing a proper set.  Before I know it he’s sliding his hand into mine and I’m smiling despite myself.  We’re heading out to sky dive or bungee jump or some equally ridiculous muggle activity that will probably kill me and I think I am happy..

~

“You behave yourself and remember,”

I’m standing on the landing at Kings Cross, preparing my son to board the Hogwarts express for the first time and I can’t help but wonder about the significance of the train before me.  I pause for a moment to glance up at the massive steam engine of the train, silver gaze trailing over the shining exterior.  My gaze pauses at the ginger head of Weasley and I snort under my breath, leaning back down to continue.

“You give those Weasleys hell.”

The warning squeeze on my forearm from Astoria only makes me smirk down at Scorpius and we exchange a knowing nod.  In a moment he disappears into the train and I’m on the outside looking in as my son sets to embark on his own path.  I hold my head up proudly and I merely nod when he waves to us from the other side of a compartment window and I think, I am happy..

~

“I’m going to kill you if we don’t die!”

My shouts are lost on the wind that is rushing towards us as we fall to our certain death, having just jumped from a hovering muggle airplane.  We are ‘free falling,’ something the instructor assured us was the single most exhilarating experience we would ever have in our measly existence.  I beg to differ.  I don’t know why he is so fucking obsessed with flying without brooms, one of these times I am  _actually_  going to die and that should fix him.  He is insane and has this insatiable desire to defy death by embarking on these completely dangerous activities time and time again.  I play along because I love him, and I want him to be happy, but sometimes I can’t help but wonder if I alone will ever be enough for him.  He deserves the world for what he’s survived, so much more than me, but I’m not actually sure that it will ever be enough.

There is a warm mouth pressed against mine and I snap back to the present, eyes peering at the suddenly very close form of Potter who is clinging to me in mid air. 

“You’re fucking insane.”

I murmur against his lips, knowing he can’t hear a word I’m saying.  He flashes me that grin that he knows makes my insides squirm and I shake my head fondly.  He reaches for the red lever on his harness and in an instant he is gone, snapped upwards as his parachute slows him.  I follow suit and tug on my own, counting the seconds until my feet are once again on solid ground.  The moment I land he is on me; impatiently shifting my spent parachute out of the way and burying me in a kiss that makes me forget that I want to murder him.  He’s straddling me in a field of wheat and a tangle of cords and of billowing material and there is nowhere else I would rather be.  We are not conventional and we are not expected, but I am happy.

~

_“Do you remember when we met on this train?”_

 I glance sideways at her, brow arching sharply at her question.  I remember now, how could I have forgotten?  It was after the war and after the trials and after all the smoke had settled. At the [gentle] prodding of my mother I had returned to Hogwarts to complete my schooling, there had been a whole slew of us who had been too caught up in a war to actually complete school.  The last thing I ever had wanted was to return to Hogwarts, I wanted..Well, I suppose I don’t even know what I wanted.  I had boarded that train and ignored the stares of people who would always know what I was, former friends and former enemies. I stepped into the first vacant compartment I could find, opting to avoid the usual Slytherin compartments at the far end of the train.  It was there that I had met her, occupying my safe place and peering at me over the top of a book who’s name I can’t remember now but seemed so pivotal at the time.

Astoria Greengrass; Ravenclaw.

She made that year at Hogwarts bearable, and when it was done we kept in contact via owl post.  The day I stood in the gardens at Malfoy manor and took her as my bride I told myself I was happy; she was kind and beautiful and what I had done didn’t matter to her, she was exactly what I needed at that moment.  I will always be grateful for that friendship that was forged in the ashes of devastation.  She was the light at the end of a very dark tunnel, a way out, a chance that I never thought I would have, and I think I am happy.

~

Its late afternoon and I’m sitting in front of his muggle telly, something that I am completely enthralled with, despite my very best efforts.  He’s shown me so much, besides the telly, that is.  I can’t imagine my life without him now, even though there was a time when the only thing he represented in it was as the proverbial thorn in my side. 

_“What are you watching?”_

The voice breaks through the sea of thoughts I am lost in and I turn, offering him a quizzical expression. 

“Hmm?”

I reply eloquently, brow rising innocently.  He rolls his eyes and glances back at the television, brow furrowing as the announcer talks about the process of forging the steel that makes up the siding of a steam engine train. 

_“You’re watching how trains are made?”_

He asks, his own brow rising in amusement.  I snort and kindly inform him that I couldn’t be arsed to change the channel and he falls into amused silence, watching the show.  After a while he turns to me, leaning close and wrapping his fingers around my forearm.

_“Do you remember when we met on the train?”_

He’s grinning suggestively at me and my brow quirks, recognition clicking the memories into place.  How could I have forgotten it now? Perhaps my dreams aren’t so abstract after all..

~

Of course my mother didn’t accompany me to Kings Cross to board the Hogwarts express for the very last time, I was hardly a child that needed minding.  I had survived a war and a prison sentence and so many other horrors, I think I can see myself to the fucking train to attend a school I don’t ever want to see again.  I’m standing there staring at the barrier that will lead me to platform 9 ¾, a frown marring my otherwise flawless features.  I know that I should be heading through but I just..Cant. I’m jostled from behind and it rouses me from my confused and jumbled thoughts, glancing around at the bustling train station.   I glance back briefly at the barrier and I frown, turning away from it and heading across the way to a different platform where an open and partially full train awaited.  I step into the train and head through looking for a vacant compartment, heart thumping dully in my chest.  My mother had given me explicit instructions to board the train, she hadn’t specified  _which_  train.  It was the first true act of rebellion I had performed in many years, and it felt…great.  I slipped into a compartment and slid the door closed behind me, a wide grin slowly spreading across my mouth.  The train lurched forward and my breath caught, I hope my mother isn’t too disappointed in me, but I just can’t do it. I can’t go back.

I can’t.

The door slides open and I am pulled from my own worrying thoughts to glance up, blinking as my silver gaze settles on emerald.  I blink, unsure of what should be said before I realize that nothing really needs to be said at all.  He slides into the seat across from me and I can tell by the look of stupid Gryffindor determination on his face that he’s daring me to object.  I merely turn back to the window, the scenery slowly blurring out of focus as the train picks up speed and I smile.

I choose my own path.


End file.
